Out of His Element
by Kathy Rose
Summary: Malcolm's phobia undermines his desire to help a shipmate. Written for Drown Malcolm Month.


A/N: Written for Drown Malcolm Month, and beta'd by Kylie Lee.

Malcolm told himself that if he just kept his eyes on the deck, he might not make a fool of himself. His personal distress wouldn't matter a whit if everything else went well. Luckily, so far there had been no cause for alarm except his churning stomach and taut nerves. He was hoping it remained that way when Hoshi let out a soft, strangled sound.

Malcolm's adherence to duty automatically kicked in. His head jerked up so he could look at her, but she seemed fine. Apparently she'd only been clearing her throat as she followed the streams of information on her data padd's screen. Outside his focus on her, however, he couldn't ignore the dull, muddy green vista of what appeared to be an unending expanse of water that sent his stomach into a new paroxysm of turmoil. He hastily dropped his eyes, shamed by his physical weakness. Some security detail he was!

They were on a spaceship whose occupants couldn't survive out of water. A warbling underwater cry, much like those of Earth's whales, sliced through the air-filled compartment, the deeper tones making the deck plating vibrate under his feet. Sweat beaded on his forehead as he shut his eyes, fighting down nausea.

Not for the first time, Malcolm wondered why Hoshi had to go in person to learn more about the Xindi Aquatic language, and why he'd been so determined to be the one to provide security for her. He could have easily ordered one of his staff, or even a MACO, to accompany her. He probably should have, considering how badly he was reacting to this environment.

He took a deep breath, holding it until he felt calmer, then scolded himself as he exhaled slowly. It was his duty to be here. Any weakness, such as an unreasonable fear of drowning, had to be overcome for the good of his shipmates. One corner of his mouth quirked as he admitted that his concern for this particular shipmate had played a part in landing him in this mess.

It was common knowledge that Hoshi was claustrophobic. She was also the best linguist in the fleet, with a talent that bordered on genius, as well as a rapacious appetite for learning new languages. If Malcolm were to guess, he'd say that was probably why _Enterprise _had been given this mission after the conflict in the Expanse had been resolved. Captain Archer, however, had allowed Hoshi the option of deferring the on-site portion of the assignment to one of the junior communications officers. There had been a moment of hesitation on her part, the eagerness in her brown eyes tempered by the knowledge that any facilities for air-breathing humanoids aboard the Aquatic vessel would be cramped at best. But her desire to master a new language, one that she had never been able to fully translate during the conflict, had won out. Malcolm had been proud of her when she'd accepted the assignment.

Archer had pulled him aside after the briefing and had offered him basically the same option: He could defer the security detail to one of his staff. Malcolm had appreciated the gesture being made in private; as far as he knew, only the captain was aware of his phobia. But if Hoshi was going to face her fears, Malcolm figured he could at least try to do the same. The pride Malcolm had seen in the captain's eyes when he told him he would go with her had warmed him-right up until the transporter had dropped them in this flying watery hell.

All water under the dam now, he thought miserably, followed by an anguished snort of morbid amusement. He really should stop thinking in metaphors that had to do with water. It wasn't helping.

At least Hoshi had something to keep her occupied on the mission. She was up to her figurative elbows in whatever it was she did when she was working on a new language. He, on the other hand, had nothing to do but wait on her. He risked a one-eyed squint in her direction. She was standing near one of the clear plastisteel windows that were the only things keeping tons of water from flooding the room. Her fingers deftly punched buttons on the data padd, a frown marring her delicate features as she concentrated on her task. She didn't appear to be suffering from claustrophobia. Malcolm wished he could achieve that level of focus right now; it might help him block out his own personal demon.

Behind Hoshi, through the window, he could see two of the Aquatics languidly floating, an occasional lazy flap of their tails or flippers holding them in position facing her. When he realized the rippling around their necks was actually their gills opening and closing, breathing water, bile rose in his throat. He quickly switched his gaze back to the deck, only to see a rivulet of condensation trickling past his boot. He hoped it was condensation, and not something worse, like a leak. He squeezed his eyes shut.

"They want to know if you're all right."

Malcolm's eyes snapped open at Hoshi's words. He looked at her still diligently working with the padd, then at the Aquatics hovering on the other side of the window, and back to her. "I...I'm fine." He tried to swallow the unpleasant taste at the back of his mouth. "Why do they ask?"

"Actually, they didn't ask that. What they asked was if we have a cultural taboo about inferiors looking at superiors."

The statement startled Malcolm enough that he forgot about his queasy stomach for a moment. "Obviously they don't understand our rank system, since I'm your superior officer," he said stiffly. His stomach lurched anew as his momentary indignation faded. "I don't understand how you got from them asking about cultural taboos to if I was all right."

A slight smile crossed Hoshi's face, although she didn't look up from her padd. "You're normally hyperalert, but for the last hour, you've been looking at the deck like it's the most interesting thing you've seen in a long time. There must be something bothering you."

He'd always known she was observant. Not once had he seen her glance in his direction, and yet she had picked up on his distress. Then again, he hadn't really been looking at her or anything else but the floor. "I'm...ah...just performing as a good security officer, keeping quiet and out of the way, unless I'm needed." This last was delivered with what Malcolm thought was just the right amount of conviction.

Hoshi input a few commands on the padd, setting off a series of warbles and chirps, then looked at him as the Aquatics turned and slowly undulated away from the window, disappearing into the green murk.

"I told them we need a break," Hoshi said. She stepped closer to study his face. "You are not fine. You look like you're about to pass out."

Malcolm ran a hand over his face, then wiped it on his pants leg, wishing his skin didn't feel so clammy. "I'm just...uncomfortable. Feels like it's getting warmer in here." He tugged at his uniform collar as he shot a quick glance around the compartment, more oval than rectangular, with frighteningly narrow support struts instead of bulkheads holding the clear barriers in place. "Couldn't they have built this next to the hull, so we could at least have one solid wall? Or made this space a little bigger?"

"It's not bothering me, and I'm the claustrophobic one, remember?"

Malcolm gulped, fighting the urge to look down at the deck, the only place that appeared solid. Even that wasn't what it seemed, for it was shot through with golf ball-sized holes with clear plastisteel on the other side. "It's not that."

Hoshi grabbed his arm as he swayed. "Sit down," she said, urging him to the deck. "I'll contact the ship."

"No!" he cried as he sat down. He put up a hand to keep her from opening the communicator that he hadn't seen her pull from her pocket. His sudden movement made his stomach lurch. A hand over his mouth and an arm wrapped around his midsection, he implored her with his eyes not to make the call.

Hoshi knelt on the deck beside him. The irony of the situation didn't escape Malcolm. He was supposed to be protecting Hoshi, but instead she was looking after him.

"You know," she drawled, "it wouldn't look very good if you got sick. The Kreetassans were offended by us eating in front of them. I can imagine how the Xindi Aquatics might react if you vomited. It might set back our interstellar relations with them for decades."

"This isn't funny, Hoshi!" he said from behind his hand. A groan slipped through his fingers. "Now I realize why this place is so bloody familiar. It looks like the vomitorium."

"Zero g training," Hoshi said, nodding. "I hated that, too. But we've got gravity here, and we aren't bouncing off the walls. So what's the real problem?"

He exhaled heavily. She still held the communicator, unopened, in one hand. If he didn't give her a reasonable explanation, she'd contact the ship.

He didn't know what was worse: his discomfort, or the embarrassment of being seen in such a weakened condition. He didn't want to, but he had to surrender, if only for a few minutes to get his treacherous body back under control. With a moan, he lay all the way back, flat out on the deck, and closed his eyes. At least the coolness of the deck plating seeping through his uniform alleviated some of his overheated shakiness. "It's the water," he mumbled. "The damn water. We're surrounded by it."

"Oh! I didn't realize-" Hoshi broke off to look at him curiously. "How did you wind up in space if you're aquaphobic? It's sort of a similar environment, isn't it?"

"It is not at all similar," he said tartly. "There is no water in space, unless it's frozen into ice particles."

"So suffocating from lack of air doesn't worry you, but drowning in water terrifies you?"

Malcolm almost laughed, but caught himself, afraid something else might come out with it. "That's it exactly."

Talking with Hoshi was helping, distracting him from his distress, even if the topic of their conversation was what was ailing him. He was starting to feel a little better. Careful to avoid looking directly at the windows, he pushed himself to a seated position. The next step would be to stand, and if he could do that, he could still do his job, and Hoshi could get back to hers. "I'm here to provide security, and I can't very well do it lying down. Being afraid of drowning is no excuse."

Hoshi was looking worriedly at him as she helped him to his feet. "You should have told me. Or the captain. Someone else could have-"

Malcolm waved her quiet. "The captain knows. He let me decide if I wanted to do this. He didn't order me."

"So why did you do this, if you knew you might react badly?" Hoshi asked, her hand on his arm steadying him.

Malcolm braced himself on his feet, and gently but firmly pushed her hand away. If he could just keep from looking at all the water, he'd be fine, so he looked at her. He opened his mouth to tell her something about duty, that it was his responsibility, that- Aw, bloody hell. He might as well own up. She was giving him that look, the one that told him he hadn't fooled her. Not only was she a brilliant linguist, she was the closest thing he'd ever met to a human lie detector. Must be all the work she'd done with the nuances of language.

"I was worried about you," he said at last. "Your...claustrophobia."

"Really?" she asked, surprised pleasure in her eyes at his explanation.

He would have liked to tell her that he admired her ability to set aside her fear to do her job, that he had been willing to help her do that if necessary, and that he was sorry she'd seen his weakness. But there was a line he wouldn't cross, not even after all the years they'd served together, and it wouldn't do to go all mushy right now, not in the middle of a mission. So he settled for, "Yes, really. I wanted to make sure you were all right over here."

Hoshi smiled at him. "Thanks."

She looked like she wanted to say more, but apparently her professionalism was as strong as his-another thing he admired about her. She took a step away, returning the communicator to her pocket and activating her padd. Malcolm resolutely kept his gaze on her, concentrating on what she was doing, the better to keep his mind off his fear. Even so, he realized that he was vaguely disappointed. She was returning to work as if nothing had happened. Maybe it was better that way, he thought. He was fairly certain that she wouldn't tell anyone about his lapse, and his pride would remain intact. Now if his stomach would just do the same.

Then she surprised him.

"I wish you would have told me about your aquaphobia when we got here," she said. She pushed a few buttons on the padd, and heavy, nontransparent shields slowly slid down to cover all but one of the windows. "The Aquatics told me about the window covers, but I didn't activate them because I thought they'd aggravate my claustrophobia."

Malcolm's comfort level, which had been rising as the view of the watery outside had been hidden, abruptly leveled off as he realized what she was doing. His new concern wasn't because of his aquaphobia. Another fear, one which had to do with her, had obliterated his own. "Hoshi, you can't do this! Your claustrophobia-"

She looked up from the padd to flash him a brilliant smile. "I'll be fine. I'll have you, doing your job, here with me."

As she resumed work, a new warble from the data padd summoning the Aquatics to return, Malcolm smiled. He'd come on this mission because he'd thought Hoshi might need help coping with her phobia. He'd had no idea that in helping her, she would wind up helping him.


End file.
